During orientation for my program, we were told to remember one piece of advice above all: "Ask questions". This phrase was repeated at least 15 times, with reference to all possible sources of confusion, academic or otherwise. I took it to heart, and over the first few weeks of class, stuck my hand up to clarify points that otherwise would have been abandoned to the annals of ignorance. I was pleased to find that when I took this initiative, I would hear scribbles or tappity-taps from other students after the professor answered. These sounds were like little bells telling me, “Thanks, Lee, I was wondering that, too”. Through such positive feedback, my inhibitions decreased, and I became more comfortable asking questions.

That is, until last Friday, when I raised my hand and was heartily guffawed at by the professor, who then gave precisely no response to my query.

The trust had been betrayed. My face flushed and an expression somewhere between "Lee gargles chum" and "Lee thanks you for the bitch-slap" crossed over my face. This contortion did not go unnoticed; after class I was told, "Hey, nice face back there," by students seated at the opposite end of the room. I imagine that it was also caught by the professor as well as the department head sitting quietly in the back.

Coincidentally, this reverse segues into my last entry. Having my intelligence mocked in front of a room full of peers is not pleasant, but it is probably not in my best interest to show visible displeasure. Fortunately, I was given a second chance Monday by the same professor, when I was asked to choose any value lower than 500 for a computer simulation.

Me: “300”

Prof: Laughs. “That’s not very low, now, is it?”

Me: “Ummm, how about 10?”

Prof: “Let’s go with 50.”

Classroom: Laughter

Me: Embarrassed grimace

I’m learning.